When I was in high school, I had a classmate who was a little “off.”
He was a loner, didn’t bathe, wore the same outfit everyday; picture Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown.
He also used to touch himself — a lot. Though there’s a fine line between “adjusting yourself” and full blown flogging the dolphin, one teacher decided to take action.
She taped hand outlines on top of his desk and whenever she caught him doing the five knuckle shuffle, she’d yell “HAND CHECK!” and he would have to place his hands on the desk.
Though it didn’t stop him from whacking his piñata, it certainly made for an entertaining Spanish class.
And since, according to my Favstar page, this is one of my favorite topics, I’ll be sharing some masturbation stories today. So sit back, relax, light a candle, turn on some Barry White, and get your diddle on.
A former classmate took his life this morning.
He posted his suicide note on Facebook.
I cannot even fathom what goes through someone’s mind before ending their own life, but we all know someone who is hurting, down and out, or lonely — reach out to them. Show them you care. Let them know they are not alone.
I read an article once that said the primary reason people are “addicted” to social networking is the feeling of missing out; essentially, when you’re offline, you’re missing out on what’s happening online.
I used to be a facebook addict; constantly checking the book to see what everyone was up to. I had over 800 “friends” and no one to hang out with on a Friday night.
In the height of my twitter “fame” (I use that term jokingly, i.e. when all the “cool kids” followed me), I’d spend hours starring and @ replying. My tweets did better, got more stars, but for what? I didn’t get a job out of it, nor money or anything tangible. And in the end, when I stopped star-fornicating and kissing @ss, they unfollowed.
I’m the first to admit that social networking gives me social anxiety. Whether it’s a silly tweet, a cathartic tumblr post, or an instagrammed photo of my deteriorating city, I constantly have to remind myself that “it’s only [social network],” but convincing myself is a different matter.
I read Mass of “Christian Burial” as “Christian Bale” and envisioned showing up to the funeral dressed as Batman.